


Feelings of Inadequacy

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Feelings, Klance if you squint, M/M, WTF, someone validate Lance for the love of God, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Lance feels like he's always a step behind Keith, that he'll never catch up. Pidge reminds him that's not a bad thing and he should be proud of all he's accomplished.AKA I really need someone to validate Lance





	Feelings of Inadequacy

**Author's Note:**

> Something that's been bothering me. Keith is noted as being very fast because of his Galra blood which would explain his reflexes too. If Lance has spent this much time trying to catch up to Keith, and in my own personal world being damn close but always a step behind, that makes him a DAMN GOOD PILOT, because he doesn't have the advantages of the Galra genetics to help him. And I really wish someone would fucking tell him that! Ffs
> 
> Also in my own little world Lance is a brilliant tactician who thinks fast on his feet and slays at chess. In this world Pidge is limited to technology and not strategy hence why Lance is better.

“You can't be serious.” Pidge gapes at Lance in stunned silence. Lance ducks his head and looks away. His face burns.

“Lance!” Pidge throws her arms out and glares at him. “Lance he's half Galra,” Pidge hisses, trying to keep her voice low. Everything in the castle echoes and it's impossible to see around all the corners, someone could be lingering and this is not a conversation she wants anyone else to overhear. “Do you have any idea what that means?” she asks. When Lance doesn't answer Pidge groans, head falling back as she tugs at her hair. Lance sinks further into himself.

“Yeah, that he's always going to be better than me,” he mumbles, hands in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders hunched.

“No,” Pidge scolds, jabbing a finger at him, taking a threatening step into his space. “Shut up. I liked it better when you hadn't said anything.” Pidge puts her hands on her hips and glares up into his face. 

“It means he's got a genetic advantage you asshole.” Her face is warped with anger and wow, Pidge is scary when she's mad. “He's stronger and faster and his reflexes are better,” Pidge continues like somehow this is supposed to be obvious to him. 

“The fact you were always one step behind him is a fucking compliment to your own abilities.” Pidge's expression is stormy, but for a brief moment is dips into something like pity and Lance feels his stomach sour. He's not sure what to do with a soft Pidge, wishes she were angry with him again. “How can you not see that?”

* * *

 

Lance shrugs lamely, humiliated to realize he’s crying. He takes a deep breath, trying to force his voice level. “Because it feels like every other time I've tried to do something and failed at it. Because I already feel like I'm never going to be good at anything and the Garrison was just one more in a long list of fuck ups.” Before he's even finished talking Pidge slams into him, wrapping their arms around his waist and is hugging him tight. She hits him so hard Lance rocks back onto his heels and his hands fly to Pidge's shoulders to keep from falling back.

Finding his balance Lance pulls her close, melting into the hug. He hadn't realized how badly he needed it.

Pidge takes a deep breath and Lance realizes she's crying too.

“I'm sorry,” she mumble into his shirt. “No one should ever feel like that.” She pulls back and looks at him and something in Lance's heart squeezes. “Especially not you,” Pidge wipes at her eyes. “You're a skilled pilot, a brilliant tactician, and for the love of god you can beat me in chess. That means something Lance.” She punches his shoulder hard enough it hurts. “You're not useless and I hope one day you understand that.” She hugs him fiercely and Lance's heart hurts.

He smiles sadly, resting his cheek in Pidge's har. “Thanks Pidge,” he mutters and Pidge nods aggressively giving him one final squeeze.

“If you ever feel like that again come and find me. Or Hunk. Anybody, you dense asshat.” She smack him again and Lance makes a surprised noise, rubbing at the offending spot, which Pidge has managed to hit twice now. Lance can feel a bruise blossoming. It manages to draw a small smile from him.

Pidge hugs him once more for good measure before shoving him away with a scowl.

“Don't touch me,” she snaps and Lance tries not to laugh as Pidge scrubs at her face, stalking off down the hall.

“I hate you,” Pidge shouts over her shoulder and Lance waves, more relaxed than he's felt in days. He follows after Pidge a moment later, oblivious to Keith lingering in the adjacent hallway. 


End file.
